


A Shrunken Spider

by An_Odd_Idea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hugs, Irondad, Mostly Fluff, Nervous Peter, Nightmares, Peter trusts Tony a lot, Peter wants to be held, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony, Shrunken Peter Parker, Tiny Peter, Tony doesn’t know how to handle it, Tony tries his best, just a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22015081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_Odd_Idea/pseuds/An_Odd_Idea
Summary: A fight with a magic-wielding foe leaves Peter shrunken and vulnerable.  Luckily, Tony is there to take care of him until the spell wears off.
Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker
Comments: 22
Kudos: 195





	A Shrunken Spider

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IamStillHere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamStillHere/gifts).



> Here’s another story that involves a shrunken Peter, significantly less weird than the last one.
> 
> This was kind of requested (suggested? not sure how official things have to be) by IamStillHere, so thank you. I wrote it ages ago and just realized how gifting works, so here we are very late!
> 
> It’s a bit of a mess, but I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Please do not copy, print, or reproduce outside this site, I don’t want to get sued.

Peter’s body felt like it had been put in a hydraulic press on the strongest setting and left there for three hours.

It really was amazing that he could conjure such a vivid description while the rest of his mind just sounded like, “Too loud, too bright, _owowow_ what happened?” Dizzy, he sat up and gingerly touched his throbbing shoulder. _What_ _happened?_

He could remember pieces: fighting aliens, Doctor Strange battling the space witch who had brought them, a beam of light coming at him too fast, trying to dodge, Tony yelling, pain. Peter shook his head to try to clear it and looked around. Everything was too big.

Something was very, very wrong.

The ground shook as metal boots pounded toward him. Not regular boots, either, giant ones, big enough to crush him without their wearer even noticing. Not quite able to comprehend what he was seeing yet, Peter stumbled to his feet and immediately tripped into a crack in the sidewalk. The giant feet stopped only a pace from where he was.

“Peter?!” Tony yelled.

Peter ripped the mask from his face and craned to look up at his giant of a mentor, who hadn’t seen him yet. Part of him wanted to shout for his attention, the other part wanted to hide. Too late to decide; Tony’s face turned toward him, and his eyes widened.

“Oh my god.” Tony dropped to his knees with an earth-shattering clang, sending Peter leaping backwards with his hands over his ears. “Kid?”

Peter was pinned in place by his gaze, his heart pounding wildly.

“Hey.” Tony’s face softened, his voice lowered to the gentlest tone Peter had ever heard from him. “You’re all right. It’s me.”

Peter knew that. He _knew_ Tony would never hurt him, but he was BIG and he was _looking at_ _him_ , and some instinct was still screaming for him to run and hide. Or maybe just curl up in a ball and cry. That worked, too.

More feet were coming, and Tony moved his hand above Peter, thankfully not too close, ready to shield him. Doctor Strange, equally giant, stopped a few steps away. 

“What happened?”

“Those beams,” said Tony, and Peter was glad at least somebody seemed to know, even if he did sound incredibly anxious about it. “What were they?”

Doctor Strange crouched down, too close for Peter’s liking, and he edged away, closer to Tony. 

“Reduction spells. He shouldn’t be here at all.”

Peter’s stomach lurched. “It just got me a little bit,” he ventured. “My shoulder.”

“Let me see.”

Peter edged a little out of the safety of Tony’s shadow and turned so Doctor Strange could get a better look.

“Your shoulder, not the suit.”

“Sorry.” He was an idiot. He loosened his suit and slid it painfully off his left shoulder, which looked and felt like a bad sunburn. The doctor squinted at it, leaning terrifyingly closer, and Peter fought against that same desire to curl up and hide.

“May I hold you?” 

_ Nope. Big nope _ . Peter looked back at Tony for help, and he nodded once.  _ It’s okay _ .

“Okay.”

It took all his willpower to stay in place as fingers the size of his entire body came at him, and even more not to struggle when they trapped him and picked him up. They were incredibly gentle, but the power behind them made Peter gasp. He held on and stared at the enormous index finger that was wrapped around his chest, not daring to look at Doctor Strange’s too-close face or at the drop to the ground while the giant examined him.

“You weren’t hit by the spell at all, or you’d be atoms,” said the wizard. “Most likely, you only absorbed a small amount of the energy field around it, so you experienced a fraction of-“

“Whatever,” Tony interrupted. “Can you reverse it?”

Peter’s chest tightened nervously.

“It should wear off.”

“How long?” Peter pressed.

“A day. Maybe less.” He shrugged. “If not, call me. I have things to do.”

Peter gasped and held tighter to the doctor’s finger as he was unceremoniously pushed in Tony’s direction.

“I don’t like being han-“ Tony stopped himself, and Peter was transferred from one person’s hands to another’s as if he were a beetle or a particularly interesting rock.

Doctor Strange probably meant for him to stand, but the moment his feet touched Tony’s palm, his knees gave out and he sank into an awkward crouch. They shared a wide eyed glance, before Peter looked back just in time to see Strange disappear in a shower of gold sparkles. Tony stared after him like he could will him to come back.

Peter took a deep breath for the first time since he had been shrunken, but his heart hadn’t calmed down yet. It made him feel thin and shaky, almost like he could spontaneously disappear at any moment. He touched the hand underneath him to anchor himself, and was surprised by how  _ safe _ it felt. It was way bigger than a hand ever had any right to be, but it was  _ Tony _ , and apparently that was enough. Before, he had wanted to run from the man, and now he was fighting the desire to lie down and press his whole body against that hand until it felt solid again.

“So.” Tony finally spoke as Peter was struggling to find a not-weird way to ask permission to do just that.

Now that Peter looked up at his face again… well, he really was big. Peter forced a smile. “So?”

“Good God, this is weird.”

“Sorry.” Peter looked at Tony’s hand again and poked cautiously at a callus. “What’re we gonna do now?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as nervously as it did.

“We…” Tony hesitated and looked up again like Doctor Strange might reappear to help him… “are going to watch an entire season of Doctor Who.”

~

It wasn’t a good answer. It was a stupid answer, really. Tony had been about to say something overly sincere about figuring everything out and keeping Peter safe no matter what, but the words just didn’t present themselves. Apparently the kid’s nerd show was the best best thing.

“Really?” Peter lit up like Christmas had come early.

Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad answer.

“Really. It’s the least I can do.”

He had flown them back to the tower, holding Peter like a captured butterfly in his hands. The poor kid held perfectly still the entire time, and Tony was pretty sure neither of them breathed until he had set Peter safely on a tabletop to get out of his armor. 

“I thought you didn’t like Doctor Who.”

“I don’t hate it,” said Tony. “Now let’s see what Daisy’s up to.”

“Rose.”

“I was close.”

Peter made a face at him, but Tony paid more attention to the fact that a regular table must now be a vast wasteland to him. His thoughts must have been contagious, because Peter stopped smiling and glanced quickly around himself. He was just too small.

“Okay if I carry you again?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Tony reached out to pick him up, but it felt wrong to do so when he was already so helpless. Instead, he laid his hand flat on the table and waited for Peter to clamber onto his palm and sit down before closing his fingers halfway for security. Peter, for his part, appeared almost relaxed, but he kept both hands braced on Tony’s as he had before.

The walk to the couch was nerve-racking as Tony imagined countless tripping hazards in their path along the pristine floor, but they made it without mishap. He let Peter hop off his hand onto the padded armrest and breathed a quiet sigh for them both. 

“Need anything first?”

“No, I’m good,” said Peter a little too quickly, settling on the armrest with another glance behind himself.

Deciding not to push it, Tony sat on the couch next to him and asked FRIDAY for the next episode.

Neither of them paid much attention. Tony found himself glancing over at Peter every few seconds to be sure he was all right, and half of those times Peter was still looking over his shoulder. Respect for Peter’s already wounded pride kept him from saying anything, but when one of his anxious glances found the kid with his arms wrapped around himself and the most forlorn expression he had ever seen, he couldn’t leave it alone anymore. He paused the episode. “You okay?”

“Kinda cold.”

Of course he would get cold, being that small. Tony felt stupid. “I’ll find you a blanket.” He started to get up in search of something small enough to serve as a blanket for Peter, but was stopped by an almost panicked cry.

“Wait!” Peter had scrambled to his feet.

Of course. Tony felt even stupider. Of course Peter wouldn’t want to be left alone in such a helpless state. “You can come, too.” He laid his hand flat for Peter to climb onto again, which he did readily. “All set?”

“Um.”

“What’s up?”

Peter looked down at Tony’s hand. “Can you maybe... I mean I- um…”

“Just ask me already.”

“Can I maybe, like... stay here? For a while?” He glanced up nervously.

“You want me to hold you?”

“Kind of.” Peter offered him a shy smile. “You don’t have to, I mean, I’m okay-“

“Course I’ll hold you, kid,” Tony interrupted. He couldn’t quite fathom why Peter would want that, but he was glad to help in any way he could.

“Thanks.” Peter settled down in Tony’s hand and leaned trustingly against the base of his thumb.

“Comfy?”

“Yep. This is nice.”

Tony shook his head. “Must be the spider DNA.” 

“Not being small! Just, this.” Peter gestured to Tony’s hand, “It felt like something was always about to get me before.”

“Nothing’s gonna get you,” said Tony. “Want to keep watching now?”

In the end, they didn’t watch an entire season. Evening came faster than Tony expected, and he had to call May and tell her Peter was spending the night, and then he had to find something for himself and a shrunken spiderkid to eat, and then he had to persuade Peter not to  _ actually _ take a nap on top of a pop tart. (“But this is my dream, Mr. Stark! Thor’s gonna be so jealous!”)

Peter wanted to pull a Doctor Who all-nighter, but Tony said no; magic spells probably wore off faster for people who were well rested.

“Where am I gonna sleep?” Peter asked anxiously, probably afraid of being left alone somewhere.

“We’re camping out here,” said Tony, noting the way Peter immediately relaxed back into his hand. He put together a makeshift bed of dish towels and a clean rag from the lab on the coffee table, and dragged a blanket to the couch for himself. “You ready to turn in for the night?” 

“I guess.” Peter touched his hand nervously.

“You need anything, get FRIDAY to wake me up. She can still hear you.”

“Can we have a light on?”

Tony left the light in the hallway on, keeping the room dim but not dark, and carefully set Peter in the middle of the towel bed. He still looked too small.

“I’ll be right here,” Tony reminded him. 

“Okay.” Peter shuffled under his covers. “Night, Mr. Stark.”

“Night, kid.”

~

_ Peter couldn’t move. Tons of rubble weighed down on him, digging into his back and constricting his chest so he could barely breathe. He wanted to scream for help, but his throat was choked with dust, and no sound came out. _

_ In front of him, Toomes was laughing. _

_ The rubble shifted with small groans and cracks, crushing down harder on Peter. He struggled to pull himself free, but he couldn’t budge, and his fingers scrabbled uselessly in the dust. _

_ “Help me,” he begged. _

_ “Sure, I’ll help you, Pedro.” Toomes fixed him with that terrifying half grin that didn’t reach his eyes. _

_ His footsteps echoed, loud on the shifting concrete floor. Too loud. He towered over Peter, tall, tall, too tall. He was too big. _

_ But Toomes wasn’t too big. Peter was too small. He was shrinking, but the rubble continued to crush him, compacting right along with him and compressing him smaller. He was slipping, and he was going to fall through the cracks and be buried, and Toomes was coming to GET him and- _

_ “Pete, wake up.” _

_ He knew that voice. “Mr. Stark!” _

_ Peter’s hands lost their grip in the dust, and then he was sliding. He couldn’t see Toomes anymore, but this was worse. This was being lost and crushed and destroyed, and he couldn’t breathe. _

_ “Wake up, kid, it’s not-“ _

_ “Mr. Stark help me _ !” 

Peter sat straight up in bed, his heart pounding fit to burst out of his chest. When he saw the giant face looming above him, he screamed.

“Whoa, hey, you’re all right,” said the giant with Tony’s voice. “It’s just me.”

And it was, it was Tony, but Peter’s heart didn’t slow down. He felt thin and shaky inside, and it still seemed like something was squeezing him too hard to breathe.

“It was just a dream,” said Tony in a soft, steady voice that almost made Peter feel like falling asleep again despite everything. “You’re here at the tower with me, and you’re still freakishly small, but you’re safe.”

Peter nodded. He was safe. He was safe, and Tony was there, and Toomes was gone, and he wasn’t under the building anymore. But he was still small. He was just too small. 

To his complete embarrassment, Peter burst into tears. He buried his face in his hands, but there was no hiding the sobs that shook him, and they weren’t stopping.

“Kid?”

Peter almost wished Tony would go away and stop looking at him while he was too small and crying on a coffee table. Almost. His nest of towels shifted when a giant hand was placed on it, palm up but fingers relaxed, simply resting there. Attempting to sniffle back his tears, Peter got up and climbed into it, huddling in the little hollow near Tony’s thumb.

“Okay,” said Tony gently. “All right, I got you. You’re fine.”

Peter sniffled again and shivered.

“Here, I’m gonna pick you up. Sit tight.” Tony’s hand raised him up slowly and smoothly until he was being held at about chest level for the man, still securely nestled in his palm. “This okay?”

Peter nodded. His embarrassing sobs had stopped, but quiet tears kept coming, as did the occasional sniffles that caught him out of nowhere. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? What for?”

“I don’t-“ his voice hitched on an unexpected tightness in his throat. “I don’t know why I’m crying!” It was true. He didn’t know exactly why. It had just… happened.

“Huh.” Tony quirked a long eyebrow at him. “Maybe cause you just woke up from a terrifying dream to find you’re still roughly the size of an action figure, so now you’re even more freaked out, and it’s all too much?”

“Maybe.” It didn’t sound so stupid when Tony said it like that. 

“So. Now we’ve figured that out, what do you need, kid?”

Peter knew what he wanted, but it felt like a silly thing to ask. Kind of a weird thing, too. Tony wouldn’t like it.

“Now this,” said his mentor, “is a spiderling who knows exactly what he wants but is afraid to say it because I might think he’s weak or needy or whatever the hell he thinks I think of him. Which is nonsense, by the way.” Tony smirked down at him. “I’m just reading your mind left and right right now, aren’t I?”

Peter looked away, choosing instead to trace a crease of Tony’s palm with his finger.

“Come on kid, I know you better than you think. Spit it out.”

“Is it okay if I lay down?” Peter still didn’t dare look up at him.

“Right here, or-“

“Yeah.” He risked a glance.

Tony looked at him incredulously. “That’s seriously it? All that? You didn’t even have to ask.”

“Sorry. But can I?”

“Go ahead.”

Peter curled up on his side, pressed into Tony’s warm, solid hand. It was scary being small enough to do that, but the fact that it was Tony sort of cancelled the scariness out. Well, Peter amended, feeling the powerful hand move slightly underneath him, maybe it was still a little scary, but in a good way. Like falling but being absolutely sure someone would catch him.

“Better?” Tony asked.

“Yeah,” Peter replied without opening his eyes.

When he did open them, several minutes later, he found Tony looking at him strangely. “Sorry!” He scrambled upright again. “Am I being weird? I didn’t mean to-“

“No no, you’re fine!” said Tony quickly, almost frantically. Then his voice softened again. “Everything’s fine.”

“Ok.”

“You can lay back down if you want.”

Peter curled up again, but soon he felt sleep tugging at him. He knew he should ask Tony to put him down, but his hand felt so nice and safe, and Peter wasn’t eager to be alone in the towels again. He’d just have to keep himself awake; he shouldn’t fall asleep in Tony’s hands. That would be rude. Or something.

“Mr. Stark?” he mumbled.

“Yeah Pete?”

“M’fallin asleep.”

“That’s okay. Go to sleep.”

There was something. Something about his hand, but Peter couldn’t remember exactly what. “Hand?”

“Yeah, you’re still in my hand. I’m keeping you safe.”

That sounded nice. Peter fell asleep.

~

_ The kid was asleep in his hands _ .

Tony couldn’t quite get over that fact. Peter had come to him, seeking comfort and safety, and then he had fallen asleep, completely helpless and completely relaxed. If that wasn’t absolute trust, Tony didn’t know what was.

A little voice in the back of his head told him he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Peter Parker’s faith in him. But whether he deserved it or not, he had it, and he would do everything he could to be sure it wasn’t in vain. His heart beat faster just thinking about trying to fulfill that promise. 

Peter snuggled his head against Tony’s hand in his sleep, and his heart melted. “What am I gonna do with you, kid?” he asked softly.

Judging by the pale light from the window, it must have been very early in the morning. Tony wasn’t sure how long they had been there, but he was content to stay as long as Peter needed, even as his hands started to get tired of holding one position for so long. The kid felt heavier than before.

The kid WAS heavier than before, and growing more so, Tony realized with a little jolt. He looked down, and sure enough, Peter was slightly less tiny. He continued to grow, too slowly to actually see but enough to definitely be noticeable, frowning slightly in his sleep.

“You’re okay,” said Tony. “Just going back to normal.”

When Peter got too big for his hands, Tony cradled him in the crook of his arm with his hand carefully supporting his head. He stirred then, and blinked sleepy eyes open.

“Hey spider-baby.” Tony smiled gently at him and prayed he wouldn’t freak out again.

“Hey Ms’r St’rk.” He smiled back- a dopey, sleepy smile that Tony had only seen a few times before but would absolutely die to protect. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing to worry about. You’re going back to normal now.”

“Oh.” Peter’s eyelids slid closed again. “M’kay.”

“Go back to sleep.”

Tony held him until he was too big to hold anymore, and prepared to lay him down on the couch to watch over him. Peter had other ideas, however; he laid his head on Tony’s lap and wrapped a small arm around his knees with a contented sigh. Tony didn’t have the heart to pry it away, so there they stayed, while the light outside grew brighter and Peter’s head grew heavier, and his own eyes slipped closed.

It felt like only half a second had passed when he was wakened by movement and looked down to find Peter, finally the size of a regular teenager again, staring up at him. Tony smiled. “Hey ki-“

“Mr. Stark!” Peter flung himself into his arms.

“Whoa! Good morning to you, too!” said Tony, but he hugged him back.

“I’m normal again!”

“I’m pretty sure you never were normal, kid.”

“Whatever.” Peter flopped on the couch next to him. “Oh man, this is nice.”

Tony watched him spread out there, just as relaxed as he had been in his hands a few hours ago.

“What?” said Peter.

“Nothing.”

“You’re looking at me weird. Did I do something stupid?”

“No, nothing like that,” Tony assured him. “Just… I have to admit I’m impressed.”

Peter gave him an utterly bewildered look.

“You were literally _this_ big, and you _fell_ _asleep_ , in my hands!”

“Yeah?” Peter furrowed his brow. “Sorry. You said it was okay.”

“What? No, kid, you don’t get it. That’s not something I’d ever be able to do. You were tiny, and you just went to sleep on me like it was nothing- I don’t know how you did that.”

“Oh.” Peter studied him for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, it was you.”

What on earth had Tony done to deserve this kid? “It was me,” he repeated dumbly.

“Yep,” said Peter, as casually as if they were discussing the weather. “Do you know somebody like that, where you’re just like, ‘Oh it’s them, so it must be okay,’?”

Tony hadn’t considered it.

“Anyway.” Peter fidgeted with the couch cushion. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. I just felt really safe, you know?”

It was sweet. It really was, and most of Tony wanted to wrap this precious, trusting kid up in a hug and promise to always, always keep him safe, no matter what. It wasn’t a desire he was used to having yet, especially not that strongly, and it almost startled him. 

“That’s great, kid,” was what he found himself saying, somewhat against his own will. “But can we not do this again? The whole shrinking and making me honestly think you’re dead until no, surprise, you’re just incredibly small and fragile and I’m the only thing keeping you from  _ becoming _ dead, thing?”

“Yeah,” Peter laughed. “Yeah, let’s not do that again.” He hesitated, twisting his hands together. “You were really nice, though.”

Tony wasn’t getting out of this one so easily, was he? 

“Okay, it’s official.” He clapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “I’m adopting you, and then maybe you can’t get into so much trouble anymore.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s your fault I was even- did you just say you’re adopting me?”

“Got a problem with it?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Peter scooted minutely closer under his arm, and Tony wanted to tell him he’d meant it: that he cared for him like a son, that he would do absolutely anything to keep him safe, but maybe now wasn’t the time. And maybe, he thought, when Peter fixed him with the most heart-melting grin, full of trust and contentment and possibly even love, maybe Peter already knew.

**Author's Note:**

> I just now had the idea that Tony and Peter might casually joke about Peter being his son, and I like it very much and will probably continue to use it because I think it fits them. 
> 
> Also, please join me in blatantly ignoring the fact that Tony could absolutely not handle all the alien invasions in Doctor Who.
> 
> Please do not copy, print, or reproduce outside this site, I don’t want to get sued.


End file.
